


Rhythm in My Chest

by comefeedtherainn



Series: All You Are [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, M/M, romcom shenanigans, side Grimmons, side church/female OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comefeedtherainn/pseuds/comefeedtherainn
Summary: Tucker and Wash have turned their fake relationship into something real, something they both want to fight for. Everything is warm, and good, and perfect - mostly. You know what they say - it's all fun and games until you fucking move in together.Sequel to All You Are.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: NSFW

“Tucker, what the fuck is in these boxes?!”

“Uh, my shit,” Tucker grunted, hauling two huge cardboard containers through the door to Wash’s apartment. Well, their apartment, he supposed, now that he was officially moving all of his and Junior’s shit in. He’d been staying over more often than not for the past year that he and Wash had been dating, and even Junior had clothes and toys there that he left behind from their sleepovers. Finally, Wash and Tucker had decided that it only made sense for them to just make the move official. Save some fucking gas money, at least.

Tucker smiled to himself; it was actually a lot sappier than that, but they both liked to pretend they were too cool for that shit. Until they were alone, anyway.

Wash followed him through the door, arms full of overstuffed garbage bags full of clothes and blankets. “Bedroom?” he asked, and carried them off when Tucker nodded. Junior brought up the rear, dragging a garbage bag full of his own clothes behind him on the floor.

“J, you’re gonna put a hole in that,” Tucker snorted, grunting as he set the boxes down heavily - maybe a bit too heavily, oops, did something just break? Ah, fuck it. “Go ahead and take that to your room.”

“M’kay.” Junior headed off down the hall, dragging his feet a little. He was probably tired, Tucker certainly was. They would have to break for lunch soon.

“Babe,” Tucker called into the apartment.

“Yeah?” Wash called back, voice faint from the bedroom.

“Let’s get that last load and then have lunch before we unpack,” Tucker suggested, voice still raised as he surveyed the other boxes that had been brought in already. When did he get so much shit?!

“Sounds good to me.” Wash emerged from the hall, looking a little sweaty but smiling. Damn, his hair was getting long; his bangs were clinging to his forehead and getting into his eyes. Tucker would have to remind him to get a haircut. Or may not. The scruffy look as kinda hot. “You tired?” Wash teased, dipping to peck Tucker’s cheek as he passed.

“Uh no, the kid is,” Tucker said indignantly, reaching to swat his ass. “So bite me.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“Uh huh. Down, boy.”

They brought up the last of the things from Tucker’s car, and then flopped onto the couch with a sigh once everything is in side. “You have way more shit than I thought you did,” Wash grinned.

“I’ll probably get rid of some of it,” Tucker snorted, looking at the slightly precarious stack of boxes.

“Like the eighty six shot glasses?”

“You touch my shot glasses and I’ll fuck you up,” Tucker snickered, resting his head on Wash’s shoulder with a sigh. “’Kay, so, here’s the plan: you make lunch. I’ll nap. Then we meet in the middle.”

“Nice try,” Wash smirked, kissing the top of his head. “Come on. I have energy drinks, you’ll feel better once you have that and a sandwich.”

“You have energy drinks? Who are you?” Tucker gasped, getting to his feet.

Wash rolled his eyes and nudged Tucker’s ass with his foot before standing up himself. “Funny, smartass.”

“That’s me.”

They dragged themselves into the kitchen, and Tucker mostly just stood there and looked cute while Wash fixed quick sandwiches. Wash didn’t care, of course, because he was incredible and Tucker loved him so much he was almost sick with it.

Tucker called Junior in to eat, and all three of them sat at the table together. Wash had cut Junior’s sandwich into triangles, and Tucker smiled softly and kissed his cheek for being sweet. Wash didn’t really know what the affection was for, but he smiled and leaned into it anyway.Junior gave them both a thoroughly unamused look, grossed out by all the kissing.

“Do we have to unpack today?” Junior asked, sighing dramatically. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, dude,” Tucker snorted, nudging him. “If we don’t do it today the boxes will just sit there forever and never get unpacked.” He snickered when Junior groaned even louder, slumping in his chair. “Oh my god, kid.”

“I hate movinggggg.”

“I knowwww,” Tucker scoffed. “Look, if you at least help me unpack all of your shit, you can take a nap. Or whatever.”

“Deal,” Junior nodded, reaching to shake his hands. Wash smirked and shook his head as the two of them made solemn deal, expressions very serious.

Tucker spent the hour after lunch helping Junior unpack his clothes; he would have let him do it himself, but Tucker didn’t want them to be a mess of fucking wrinkles by the time it was over. Plus Junior was off his pill for the weekend, and Tucker wanted to at least make sure the clothes got put away before Junior inevitably got distracted and gave packing two big middle fingers. Once the clothes were put away and Tucker had given him a new, less-crucial task, Tucker exited the bedroom to find Wash in his own, emptying the bags of Tucker’s clothes onto his bed.

Their room. Their bed. Tucker smiled widely as he corrected himself, lingering in the doorway. Wash seemed to feel the eyes because he glanced up, lifting an eyebrow. “Hovering for a reason, Lavernius?” he teased.

Tucker snickered and entered the room fully, approaching Wash and wrapping his arms around him from behind as he empties another bag. Wash pauses, then slowly put it down so he could wrap his arms on top of Tucker’s. Tucker smiled, pressing his forehead into Wash’s back. His shirt was soft, and he rubbed against it happily. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Wash murmured, and he spun in Tucker’s arms, bending the few inches of difference to kiss him gently. “I’m excited.”

“Me too,” Tucker grinned. “I don’t have to use my gas to come bang you anymore.”

Wash snorted, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. “Romantic. Really.”

“That’s me, Dr. Love, baby,” Tucker grinned, standing on his toes and playfully nipping the tip of Wash’s nose.

“Stop,” Wash said more softly, holding him closer. “Or these clothes are never getting put away. Which, I wanted to ask - why the fuck do you have so many?”

“I don’t have that many,”Tucker scoffed, pausing when he looked at the mountain in the center of the bed. “…alright, look.”

“Mhm? Continue.”

“…fuck you, man.”

Wash snickered, crossing to the closet to retrieve all of his spare hangers, dumping those on the bed as well with a slight clatter. They were all different colors, Tucker realized, and he kind of wanted to scream. Instead, he just made a note to buy Wash some new ones; all one color, like a civilized fucking human.

Tucker put some music on his phone, keeping it low just in case Junior really did fall asleep. From the silence coming from his bedroom, it appeared as if he may have. Tucker and Wash folded and hung clothes side by side, humming or softly singing along to whatever music was playing as they moved easily around each other. Their hands began to brush more often, they traded more smiles, and by the time the bed was clear of clothing Wash had taken Tucker by the waist, pulling him down with him until he was on his back with Tucker overhead.

Tucker grinned and crawled to straddle him, kissing him deeply and lacing up their fingers. He used the grip to gently pin Wash’s hands to the mattress, rolling his hips a little and keeping his grunts and moans soft and quiet. Wash seemed to be struggling a little with his own volume, so Tucker made sure to kiss him often to swallow up the breathy noises. Tucker reached between them, rubbing the heel of his palm against the bulge in Wash’s pants, and then sliding his hand down the front of them to cup him underneath his underwear. Wash made a strangled, decidedly loud noise, and they both freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes.

Once it seems that Junior hasn’t heard them, thank fuck, Tucker burst into hushed giggles, bowing his head as he fought to keep quiet. “Shut the fuck up, Washington!” he hissed with a grin, still cackling as quietly as he can.

“I’m sorry!” Wash insisted, shaking with his own suppressed laughter. He could feel his face going pink but he didn’t care, giggling along with Tucker’s hand still in his fucking pants. God, they were done for. “You caught me off guard!”

“Jesus Christ,” Tucker snickered, still grinning ear to ear with amusement. “You’re like a fucking teenager. Don’t make me gag you.”

“Oh no. Please don’t,” Wash said, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. “I would…hate that…”

“Maybe another time,” Tucker grinned, resuming palming Wash’s dick. Wash hummed quietly and settled, lips parting, and Tucker kissed them because they just looked so fucking soft. His wrist cramped after a while, and he became frustrated with how little movement he had, so he sat up and pulled down Wash’s pants instead, followed by his own. He left their shirts because, fuck it. “Think you can keep quiet while I fuck you?”

“No,” Wash said honestly, smiling lopsidedly when Tucker quietly laughed.

“Try for me?” Tucker asked, rolling his hips again. “Please?” He batted his thick eyelashes and Wash was done for. He was just that fucking easy for Lavernius Tucker.

“Okay,” Wash agreed softly, and Tucker hummed in approval, a sound that sent a shiver up his spine. Tucker bent over, kissing and sucking down Wash’s neck with a wide smile. He didn’t leave any marks, just loved on him as he reached to stroke Wash more freely now that his hand was free. Wash grit his teeth, stifling the groan that wanted to escape as he rocked his hips up into Tucker’s fist. “Fuck.”

“Yeah?” Tucker asked, grinning lazily as he ground down on Wash’s thigh. “Good?”

“Come here,” Wash pleaded, holding onto Tucker’s hips and admiring how his fingers sunk into the flesh. He pulled a little, and Tucker shuffled forward for him, until their cocks slid up against each other. Wash groaned happily, rolling up into the friction and keeping Tucker’s hips still with his hands.

“Mmm,” Tucker sighed, eyes fluttering. “Fuck, yeah, babe. Is that good? Can you come like that?”

“Ah, I-I don’t know,” Wash mumbled, stretching up to kiss Tucker clumsily. “You feel far. Come here.”

Tucker smiled and lowered himself until their chests were pressed tightly together, and he gasped as Wash hooked a leg around him and ground their hips and erections together with better leverage. “Oh, shit,” he grunted, frowning and holding onto Wash’s shoulders as he responded in kind.

“Sh,” Wash murmured against his hair, and Tucker could feel him fucking smirking.

“Yeah, yeah. Ah,” he gasped, eyes sliding closed as Wash’s finger traced his entrance, slick with saliva. He only pressed in to the second knuckle, but it was enough to be exciting, Tucker’s jaw hanging as he ground against Wash with renewed energy. Soon they were both panting into each other’s space, lips connecting with lips, then cheeks and eyelids and chins. Tucker’s orgasm took him by surprise, and he sighed into Wash’s neck as he rode it through, shaking and jolting as the pleasure came in waves. He could feel Wash tremble and come beneath him, and he kissed the moans and gasps into silence.

Tucker sighed contently and collapsed onto Wash’s chest, laughing quietly when Wash let out an exaggerated grunt just to be an ass. “Well,” Tucker murmured after a minute or so. “Thank fuck I closed the door.”

Wash snickered, sitting up a little, and Tucker slowly rolled off of him so he could get out of bed. Wash retrieved a towel from the hamper, bringing it over and wiping down his own stomach. Then he crawled onto the bed and tenderly cleaned up Tucker, as well, the touch of the cloth gentle in Wash’s hands. Tucker leaned to kiss him once he was finished, and Wash tossed the towel back where it came from before finally settling down, snuggling up to Tucker and pillowing his head on his chest. Tucker smiled, running his fingers through Wash’s hair. It was so fucking soft, and Tucker rubbed the strands between his fingertips almost obsessively. Some days he would do it so much that Wash’s hair actually started to look a little dirty, but Wash never told him to stop.

Tucker kissed the top of Wash’s head, burying his nose into the blond. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you more,” Wash mumbled, half asleep.

“Do not.”

“D’too.”

Tucker smirked and slid a little further down, until he was on his back. Wash sighed sleepily and curled around him like a koala, his face smashed into Tucker’s chest, and Tucker grinned as he pulled the duvet down and then back over them. He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh as he settled down for his own nap. A lot was changing, after all. He figured he could use some rest.


	2. Chapter 2

Wash wasn’t sure what he had expected when Tucker and Junior moved in, but he had at least assumed that the amount of time Tucker spent at his apartment would have made the transition a bit smoother. He realized was, as usual, horribly wrong, as he stared into the bathroom sink. It was covered in bits of facial hair; clearly Tucker had shaved that morning. Wash’s eye twitched a little as he turned on the tap and rinsed it out, but he decided it wasn’t worth bringing up. Tucker could be forgetful, he knew that already. No big deal. Just a little gross.

He went about his morning routine, also brushing off the fact that the toilet roll was empty and there were bits of toothpaste dripped onto the counter. That was fine. No big deal. Those things could be fixed within a minute. Not a big deal. Wash took a breath through his nose and flicked out the light, heading toward the kitchen. He smiled a bit at the smell of food, entering to find Tucker plating up pancakes, bacon, and eggs. He slid up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his ear. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Tucker grinned, twisting to peck him briefly. “Hungry?”

“Mhm.” He tucked his nose into Tucker’s neck, smelling his body wash and smiling when Tucker snickered and squirmed. “Thanks for cooking.”

“Dude, that tickles.”

“Sorry,” Wash smirked, before going right back to it. Tucker squeaked and dropped his spatula, writhing half-heartedly. Wash laughed and held him tighter, grinning when Tucker spun in his arms and swatted his chest repeatedly. “Ow,” he snickered, even though it didn’t hurt at all, and dipped to kiss him sweetly. Tucker sighed and melted instantly, allowing himself to pressed up against the counter. Wash bent and lifted him up onto it, stepping between his legs and bracing his forearm on the cabinet behind Tucker’s head.

“Dad, are you guys in here?”

Tucker gasped and jerked, smacking his head on the cabinet and simultaneously almost breaking Wash’s fucking tooth. “Shit, sorry, sorry!” he hissed, clutching the back of his own head, but Wash waved him off when he reached for him, rubbing his mouth with his other hand.

Junior shuffled in, still in his pajamas as he probably would be all day, and gave them a weird look. “Uh, Dad, why are you sitting on the counter?”

“I wanted to be tall,” Tucker told him lamely.

Wash had to turn and grab the plates of food before Junior could see him almost snort. He ran his tongue underneath his top lip, the skin there split a little bit, and sighed. He and Tucker had really been struggling to find time to themselves. The apartment was a two bedroom, but it was on the smaller side, and the walls were a bit thin. When they both weren’t too tired to have sex, they had to be really quiet. Wash didn’t mind at first, but eventually having to shove his forearm into his mouth to keep himself quiet got old. Not to mention the fact that during all of their free time, Junior was usually around because he liked hanging out with them.

Not that he didn’t love Junior. He’d been close with the kid even before he and Tucker had started dating, and now that they were, he’d fallen head over heels. He was a lot like Tucker; stubborn, sarcastic, funny. He also had Tucker’s self-esteem (or lack thereof) and tendency to be forgetful, and it all just made Wash want to hold him against his chest and protect him from everything. The first time he’d told Tucker that he felt that way, Tucker had almost cried and then told him that his dad instinct was showing. Which…was weird. But, nice. It sounded like Tucker had been kidding, but the more Wash thought about it, the less weird it sounded.

The three of them sat at the table together, Tucker giving Junior some of the burnt parts of his bacon because he liked them the best. Breakfast was one of Wash’s favorite parts about having Junior and Tucker around; neither of them liked to talk too much in the morning, but they also weren’t grumpy. Getting Junior ready for school could be a little hectic, but it had gotten better when Wash had suggested that Junior pack his backpack the night before, and always leave it in the same place. Tucker had just kind of blinked at him for a minute, then laughed and kissed him as he called him a fucking nerd. God, Wash loved him.

He tried to remember that when Tucker tried to leave the kitchen a goddamn tragedy after breakfast. “Uh, Tucker,” Wash said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing at the mess all over his counters and in his sink.

“What?” Tucker blinked, then looked where Wash was indicating. “Ugh, do we have to right now? We can do it later.”

“You always say that, and then it just sits there until dinner, and then there’s an even bigger mess,” Wash told him dryly.

“Oh my god, fine,” Tucker groaned, rolling his eyes and shuffling over to the sink like Wash had sentenced him to the chopping block. Wash’s eye twitched again but he didn’t say anything, used to Tucker’s petulance by now. Mostly. It could get a little much. Especially the eye rolling. Wash pursed his lips as he turned on the hot water in the sink, but Tucker kissed his cheek as he did so and he forgot why he was mad. They cleaned up the kitchen together, and by the time they were finished they were back to joking and laughing, and Tucker suggested they take a shower together to ‘save water.’

“Should we really do that with Junior here?” Wash asked, keeping his voice low so Junior couldn’t hear. He was in the other room on his Xbox, shouting at the TV and squirming all over the floor. Wash smiled a bit as he watched him through the doorway.

Tucker glanced at him too and snorted fondly, before pouting up at Wash. “We never shower together anymore,” he whined. “He won’t know, it’s no big deal.”

“Still feels weird,” Wash sighed, grimacing. “I don’t know.”

Tucker sighed and smiled, although his voice was an octave higher when he spoke. “Okay. That’s cool. I’m gonna go clean up, then.”

“Sorry,” Wash sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He smiled a bit when Tucker pecked his lips.

“Don’t be sorry, dork,” Tucker told him, ruffling his hair playfully before heading off to shower. Wash watched him go, then shook his head and started the dishwasher before going to hang out with Junior.

He was back to being irritated by lunch time. Every time he’d tried to walk around the apartment he’d either almost tripped over something of Junior’s or noticed an item of Tucker’s clothing sitting somewhere it shouldn’t be: the couch, the TV stand, socks fucking all over the place. He huffed as he retrieved briefs (clean or not? Fucking mystery) from their place hanging off of the small TV in Wash and Tucker’s bedroom. He pursed his lips and walked out to the living room -walked, because he was making a conscious effort not to stalk- and came to a halt near the arm of the couch, crossing his arms and staring at Tucker expectantly.

Tucker blinked up at him, smiling widely like he did whenever Wash looked irritated. “Sup, baby.”

“Hey. I keep tripping all over your sh-stuff.” He ignored the weird look Junior gave him, the same one he always gave whenever he censored himself. He couldn’t help it!

“What stuff?” Tucker asked, scoffing.

“Like your clothes, and your shoes, and your socks. It’s everywhere, you need to - Tucker, what the fuck are you doing?”

Tucker had taken out his phone and started scrolling mid-conversation, his eyes not even on Wash anymore. He raised his eyebrows when Wash said his name, but he still didn’t look up. “What?” he asked casually.

“Tucker, I’m talking to you!”

Tucker huffed and set the phone aside, crossing his arms and scowling up at him like a fucking man-child. Wash did his best to count to ten. “Fine, I’m listening, Jesus,” Tucker muttered, and Junior gave them both a nervous, sidelong glance.

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you don’t leave your shit everywhere,” Wash snapped, a little more harshly than he’d meant to. Tucker’s attitude was getting on his nerves, especially with the ignoring him thing. The rational part of him knew that Tucker just really hated arguments and went into instant avoidance mode as soon as Wash even frowned at him, but the irrational side was pissed off so it didn’t matter.

“It’s not everywhere, fuck.”

“It is, though,” Wash argued, his face slowly heating up as he tried and failed to keep his patience. Junior quietly slipped out of the room; probably a good move. “It’s not just that, the bathroom was a mess this morning.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Tucker asked, his voice raising a little bit as he got more defensive.

“There was hair all over the sink! And toothpaste!” Wash cried.

“Sorry I’m not a fucking neat freak, Wash!”

“I’m not asking for that, I’m asking that you keep the place at least semi-picked up! You would’ve left those dishes in the kitchen until tomorrow if I hadn’t asked you to clean up.”

“You mean nagged,” Tucker scoffed, lifting his eyes to the ceiling yet again. Wash’s temper finally flared.

“Stop rolling your eyes at me!” he shouted, and Tucker jumped, and Wash knew he needed to stop right fucking there. He took a deep breath through his nose, clenching his jaw. “I’m gonna go for a walk,” he muttered through tight lips. He turned on his heel and shoved his feet into his shoes.

“Fine, go,” Tucker snorted, crossing his arms and looking away.

Wash took another breath and grabbed his house keys before leaving, making sure not to slam the door as much as he would like to. He really tried not to shout at Tucker when they argued. It was a big thing he’d had to work on, actually, because his instant response to being pissed off was to scream about it. Early in their relationship he and Tucker had gotten into a pretty big fight, though, and Wash had yelled so loud that Tucker had burst into tears, although he insisted afterward that it was just because he was angry.

Still, Wash had made a promise to himself not to raise his voice anymore, and Tucker jumping just then reminded him why. He descended the elevator with his jaw still tight, and he worked on relaxing it and his shoulders as he exited the building and headed down the sidewalk with his fists in his pockets.

***

He returned an hour later to the apartment still quiet, Junior in his bedroom and Tucker curled up on the couch watching TV. He glanced at Wash with just his eyes, looking subdued. “Hey,” he murmured.

Wash approached the couch slowly, sitting beside Tucker and wrapping his arms around him as he pulled him close. Tucker went easily, burrowing into his chest and sighing heavily. “I’m sorry I yelled,” Wash whispered, kissing the top of his head.

“I’m sorry I’m a fucking terrible roommate.”

“Hey, you’re not,” Wash told him, holding him tighter. “You’re not, I promise. It’s just a lot to get used to.”

Tucker nodded quietly, rubbing the soft cotton of Wash’s shirt between his fingertips. “Still. I’ll try to clean up more, okay?”

“Okay. In return I’ll be less of a tight-ass and also get new hangers,” Wash grinned. Tucker had lamented his multicolored hangers at least a million times.

Tucker snickered softly, pressing closer to him. “Deal.”

Wash was quiet for a while, rubbing Tucker’s back and smelling his hair products. “I think we should go on a date next weekend,” he said finally. “Junior will be with Carmen.”

Tucker sat up a little, glancing up at him with raised eyebrows. “Really? You wanna like…go out somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Wash smiled, pecking his forehead. “We should go out to dinner or something. Dress up nice.”

“You wanna wine and dine me, Washington?” Tucker asked, grinning ear to ear. His eyes were lit up, clearly very into the idea of a date night.

“Always,” Wash laughed, kissing him softly. “I think we need it. It’s been hard with Junior around.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” Tucker sighed, shaking his head. “Plus we didn’t really…I dunno, negotiate before I moved in. What bugs us, stuff like that.”

“Maybe we should talk about it,” Wash nodded. “And try to sync our schedules rather than just doing things like usual and expecting it to work.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true. So, one thing I know,” Tucker said, smiling dryly up at him. “You do not like it when I roll my eyes.”

“Honestly, I really, really hate it,” Wash snorted. “I know you don’t mean to do it, but it…really bugs me.”

“Okay. I’ll work on that,” Tucker promised, kissing his cheek. “And look, with the phone thing…I realize that was shitty. I just panicked, I hate arguing.”

“I know. I don’t want you to panick, though,” Wash frowned. “Are you scared of me when I’m mad?”

“…no?” Tucker said, tilting his head. “I dunno. Not like, scared you’re gonna hurt me or anything like that. I just really don’t like when people are pissed at me. Plus you were like, standing over me like a fucking Disney villain.”

“Oh,” Wash blinked, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

“I mean, it’s probably just me being weird,” Tucker scoffed, waving his hand.

“No, it’s not. I won’t stand over you,” Wash told him seriously. “I get how that would be weird. I’m sorry.”

Tucker’s eyes flicked up at him, and he smiled softly. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll stop acting like I’m not listening to you. Because I am listening, you know. Always.”

“I know.” Wash nuzzled his nose against Tucker’s temple, smiling when he laughed. “Hm. Maybe we should draw up a chore chart.”

Tucker snickered, shifting until he was leaning back against Wash’s chest. “You would want a chore chart, you fucking nerd.”

Wash grinned, their new position allowing him to trace patterns across Tucker’s stomach and chest with his fingertips. “You know me. I love my visuals.”

“Same, to be honest,” Tucker smirked, closing his eyes. “Even though I like to complain.”

“You do like to complain,” Wash nodded, jerking when Tucker pinched his nipple. “Ow!”

“Wimp, that wasn’t even hard,” Tucker grinned. “I’ve seen you take it harder than that,” he added with a lecherously waggle of his eyebrows.

“Tucker.” Wash’s face turned red and he laughed nervously, glancing over his shoulder. “Junior could hear.”

“Wash, if we keep worrying this much we’re never gonna fuck again,” Tucker huffed, pouting up at him. “I know it’s weird having a kid around, but you gotta get over it.”

“I know, I know,” Wash sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch. “It’s really not that weird. I love Junior.”

“I know you do,” Tucker said fondly, smiling up at him. “But having him around is still a lot different than other roommates.”

“…I suppose you’re right,” Wash admitted. “I feel like I’m gonna corrupt him or something.”

“If I haven’t, you sure as shit won’t,” Tucker snickered. “Chill, Dave.”

“Stop fucking calling me Dave,” Wash muttered, reaching to tickle Tucker’s ribs in response. Tucker shrieked, writhing in his arms, and Wash cackled and had to tilt his head back so Tucker didn’t break his fucking jaw with his head.

“Oh my fucking God, do not tickle me!” Tucker screamed, wriggling himself right off the couch and onto the ground. Wash followed straight after, straddling his waist and continuing his assault. Tucker screamed even louder,giggling helplessly in between. “Stop! Stoooooop! Waaaaaash!”

Junior came out to see what the commotion was about, pausing in the entryway of the hall and blinking slowly. “…you guys are weird.”

“Juniorrrr! Helllllp!” Tucker gasped, tears in his eyes with how hard he was laughing. Junior stared at them for another moment, then grinned and leapt on Wash’s back with a war cry. Wash laughed louder, getting to his feet and unceremoniously dumping Junior onto the couch with a loud flop. He and Tucker both dove on him at once, tickling him until he screamed and started kicking. He got Wash really good in the chest and gasped, sitting up.

“Sorry, Wash!”

“It’s fine,” Wash snickered, still grinning widely. “We should probably stop, though.”

“Yeah, before J pees himself,” Tucker teased, laughing when Junior swatted him.

“I wouldn’t pee, Dad!”

“I was kidding!”

They ordered pizza for dinner, spreading out on the living room floor and watching TV. Tucker and Junior had apparently done this all the time at their old place, eating the pizza from the box and drinking the pop from the bottle. Wash had introduced cups, plates, and napkins, but otherwise had adopted the floor pizza party enthusiastically. He and Tucker sat leaning up against the base of the couch, Tucker resting against Wash, as they watched some strange kiddie movie Junior had picked out on Netflix. Tucker took advantage of the fact that Junior was sitting in front of them and was distracted by the TV, kissing up Wash’s neck and to his ear. Wash closed his eyes contently, smiling as Tucker’s lips brushed the shell and made him shiver.

“Are you teasing?” he asked quietly with a smirk.

“Nah,” Tucker whispered with a grin, kissing down to his shoulder. “It’s only teasing if you’re not gonna do anything about it.”

“You’re terrible.”

“But you love me.”

“Mhm,” Wash agreed, turning his head to kiss him gently.

The movie ended shortly after, and Junior yawned before he could try to hide it from Tucker. “I saw that,” Tucker grinned, nodding toward the hallway. “Go on, brush your teeth and shit.”

Junior groaned but moped off, muttering to himself. Wash smiled fondly and helped Tucker clean up the garbage from the pizza party. He noticed that Tucker also made an effort to clean up the plates and napkins they had left out on the counters, and to wipe them down really quickly. He kissed his cheek softly as a thank you, and Tucker beamed like a praised puppy.

Wash allowed Tucker to go tuck Junior in (he was still nervous about intruding on things like that) and went to get himself ready for bed while he waited. When Tucker returned Wash was stretched out, the lamp on his side of the bed turned on. Tucker pulled his clothes off, tossing them onto the floor carelessly. He paused, then bent and dropped them into the hamper instead. He crawled into bed with Wash, with a grin that was just begging Wash to tell him he did good, so he did.

“Thank you,” Wash murmured, kissing him gratefully. “I appreciate the effort, babe.”

“Sure,” Tucker said casually, even though he was smiling widely as he snuggled up. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Wash told him, and his quiet laugh fond as he ran his fingertips up and down Tucker’s spine, his bare skin warm and comforting.


	3. Chapter 3

“Wash. It’s really not that serious.”

“It is, Tucker. We have to be efficient. Quick. Agile.”

“For fuck’s sake, we’re grocery shopping!”

Wash didn’t reply, leading the way into the store with a list in his hand. Tucker trailed behind him, a fond smile on his lips and the other half of the list in his pocket. They were doing a pretty big haul, he had to admit, since the kitchen was almost completely empty. Which of course meant that Wash had turned it into a literal requisition mission, writing them both separate lists; Tucker’s items were all located on one side of the store, and Wash’s were located on the other. Junior was at school, thank God; Tucker hated to admit it, but bringing Junior shopping was like pulling his own teeth out with tweezers. The kid dragged his feet, whined, and tried to sneak shit into the cart so often that Tucker almost screamed every time.

“Alright,” Wash said once they were through the doors, each of them commandeering their own cart. “You have your list?”

“Yep,” Tucker smirked, almost lifting his eyes to the ceiling but stopping himself at the last second. He was still working on that.

“Good,” Wash grinned. “Let’s get this fucking over with. Meet up at the registers.”

“Sounds good to me, baby.”

They split off in different directions, Tucker snickering to himself at Wash’s intensity. He may laugh, but in reality he kind of appreciated the fact that Wash hated shopping in public as much as he did; it was crowded, people always got in the way, and it involved waiting in line. Like, seriously, fuck that shit. And Wash despising the whole ordeal just as much meant that their shopping trips were always a get-in-get-out kind of deal. Tucker made his way over to his designated cluster of aisles, grinning fondly as he realized Wash had fucking categorized the list by aisle. God, Tucker was such a dweeb for this idiot.

He was in the middle of the sauces and dressings aisle, trying to remember which of the forty five different kinds of spaghetti sauce was the one he liked, when his phone went off. He peeked at it, then grinned and answered it swiftly. “Heyyy, what up C?”

“Hey Tucker,” Carmen’s voice greeted him cheerfully. “Are you sitting down? You should probably be sitting down.”

“No,” Tucker snorted, raising an eyebrow as he just tossed the cheapest sauce into his cart. “I’m grocery shopping with Wash. Well, technically.”

“Ew. Also…technically?”

“Well, he’s on the other side of the store. We’re tag-teaming this bitch.”

“You guys manage to make everything cavity-inducing,” Carmen drawled, and Tucker could hear her lopsided smirk. “Okay, so anyway, I have some exciting news.”

“Oh yeah?” Tucker asked, heading into the next aisle and just barely dodging getting bodily t-boned by a little old lady’s motorized scooter. “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna be moving back next month.”

“Holy shit, seriously?!” Tucker gasped, ignoring the multiple heads he’d turned with the exclamation. “That’s fucking amazing!”

“I know right?! And it’s even better - Church asked if I wanted to move in, take your old room!”

“Dude!” Tucker grinned, stopping dead in the middle of the aisle and pissing off literally everyone. “This is seriously the best day of my life.”

“Ouch, don’t tell Junior that,” she snickered.

“Fuck off.” Tucker resumed his shopping, grinning ear to ear now. “That’s so fucking great. So wait, are you like getting a moving truck and shit? Wash and I could drive up and help you.”

“I’ve got it on lock, T, but thanks,” Carmen assured him warmly. “My parents helped me pay. I would be willing to pay you to help me unpack, though.”

“You don’t have to pay us,” Tucker snorted, rolling his eyes. “Fuck outta here with that.”

Carmen laughed, and Tucker just knew her cheeks were going a bit darker. “Yeah, yeah, I just don’t want you to think I expect shit from you.”

“I’m your baby daddy, I gotta,” Tucker grinned, snickering when she groaned.

“Stop fucking saying you’re my baby daddy, I’m gonna give you a fucking swirly.”

They chatted for a bit more, and Tucker found that the shopping went by ten times faster when he was on the phone. Or maybe it just felt like it did, because he saw Wash approaching him with a playfully raised eyebrow, his cart already full. “Falling behind, Lavernius?”

“Shut up,” Tucker snorted, nudging him. “C, I gotta finish up or Wash is gonna ground me.”

“Does he seriously call you Lavernius? I love him even more.”

Tucker pouted, even though she couldn’t see. “Just imagine me giving you two giant middle fingers right now.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. Later, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Tucker hung up the phone and stuck it in his pocket, grinning up at Wash. “Dude! Carmen’s moving back! She’s gonna be living with Church!”

“Seriously? That’s great,” Wash grinned. “Junior’s gonna be so excited.”

“I know right?!” Tucker grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “Ugh, this is gonna be so good. We won’t have to travel so far to let him visit, and she can come over for dinner more often, I’m so fucking excited.”

Wash grinned and kissed his temple briefly. “Me too. Let’s get this done, so we can be excited somewhere that’s not the seventh layer of hell.”

Tucker snickered and allowed Wash to nudge him along, grinning as they finished checking off his portion of the list.

***

Tucker practically vibrated in the passenger seat as Wash drove them both and Junior to Church’s (and now, also Carmen’s) apartment. Carmen had moved in the day before, and had assured Tucker that she, Church, and the moving guys had unloading under control. They were coming by the following day instead, to say hi and help unpack. Church had already squawked about how much shit she had.

Tucker and Junior both rocked eagerly on their feet as they knocked on the apartment door, and Junior screeched as soon Church opened the door. He dove under Church’s arm and leapt at Carmen, hugging her with all of his strength. “Hi mom!”

“Hey, kid!” she grinned, squeezing him right back. “I swear you get taller every time I see you,” she teased.

“Mom!” Junior snickered, letting her smooch his cheek and leave a lip gloss stain.

Tucker swooped in next, grinning and pulling her into his arms before swinging her around in a circle. “Tuckerrrr,” she groaned, laughing breathlessly. “My spiiiine.”

“Sorry,” he beamed, setting her down eventually. “I’m so fucking happy, dude.”

“Me too!”

“I’m also here,” Church deadpanned, though he was smirking a bit.

“Uh oh,” Tucker grinned. “Church’s feelings are hurt. Junior, go hug him.”

“Ugh, no-” Church sighed as Junior threw his arms around his middle, squeezing him super tight. “Yes, hi, hello.”

“Feel better?” Tucker asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, man.”

Carmen rolled her eyes fondly at them, them smiled and clapped Wash’s shoulder firmly. “Hey, dude. Nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Wash grinned. “It’ll be good to see you more often.”

“Totally. Now I can keep a closer eye on you.”

“…uh.”

“I’m kidding,” she snickered, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. “I’ll just murder you if you hurt him, that’s all.”

“O-oh. Okay,” Wash blinked, staring after her as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Jesus, C, Church wasn’t kidding,” Tucker snorted, looking around at all the boxes. “Even I don’t have this much shit.”

“Most of that is books,” Carmen smirked.

“Yeah, I almost broke my fucking back carrying them up here,” Church muttered. Carmen pinched his cheek as she passed by, and his face went bright pink. Tucker squinted at him, but didn’t have time to really think about it before Carmen was dragging him over to help.

“Here,” she said, holding out her hand and revealing a bright orange box cutter. “Get crackin’.”

“Bossy,” Tucker snickered, taking it obediently. He very carefully opened the blade portion, though he only pushed out as much as was absolutely necessary and handled the thing very delicately, like it was gonna jump out of his hand if he wasn’t careful.

“Can I have one?” Junior asked, leaning over.

“No,” Tucker said firmly, nudging him back and earning himself a scowl. “Help Wash put Mom’s books away.”

“’Kay,” Junior sighed, easily swayed enough by being able to hang out with Wash.

Tucker watched as he shuffled over and Wash smiled, sliding a pile of books toward him so he could help. Tucker didn’t realize he was smiling like a dork until Carmen snorted and nudged him. “Huh?”

“You moony fuck.”

“I’m not moony.”

“Are too. You’re done for, man.”

“…maybe,” Tucker smirked, going back to prying the box open. “…dude, no one needs this much makeup.”

“Don’t fucking judge me, Lavernius,” Carmen snorted, sticking her nose in the air. She blew a bit of thick black hair out of her face, frowning. “Ugh. I need to get this cut.”

“Aw, really? But it’s so pretty,” Tucker sighed, reaching to touch her bun because he knew she hated it. As expected, she slapped his hand audibly in retaliation.

“Thanks, but it’s getting to be too heavy to even stay on top of my head,” she huffed, scowling upward like she could see it. God, she was a nerd. “I’m literally about to go chop it off in the bathroom.”

“Do not,” Church deadpanned, in the middle of sticking her dishes in the cupboards in the kitchen.

“What? You attached to my hair, Church?”

Church turned red again, and Tucker gave him a weird look. “No, I’m not attached to it,” he scoffed incredulously. “I just don’t want hair all over the fucking bathroom.”

Carmen laughed, turning back to what she was doing, and Tucker took that opportunity to make eye contact and have a silent conversation with his weird-ass best friend. Well, the other one. _Dude. What the fuck?_

_What?!_

_You’re being weird._

_Am not._

_Are too._

_Eat a dick._

“Yo, earth to dipshits,” Carmen called, patting Tucker’s cheek with a grin. “You guys gonna stare into each other’s eyes all day or are you gonna help?”

“Sorry,” Tucker snorted, going back to what he was doing. He made a note to talk to Church about that later.

By mid afternoon Junior was whining about being hungry and the rest of them had to admit they felt similarly. They had gotten a lot done, with most of the work left being setting up the rest of the furniture in Carmen’s bedroom. She’d had to get all new shit because everything she’d had before had belonged to her parents. Church was halfway through building her a desk, although she called it a makeup table, and Tucker wasn’t entirely sure why you needed a whole fucking table for makeup. But hey, what did he know?

He cornered Church in the kitchen while Wash, Carmen, and Junior were in the living room, sprawled all over the couch and floor as they ate their lunch. “Dude. You’ve been being kinda weird.”

Church’s expression was the facial equivalent of a fucking question mark, a little too dramatic for Tucker to believe it was genuine. “Uh, what?” he scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

“Every time Carmen talks to you you get all weird and like…pink, and shit.”

“I do not get pink,” Church sniffed, jutting his chin out.

“Uh, yeah you do, dude.”

“I’m not being weird,” Church snapped at him, though it wasn’t with much venom. Tucker raised his eyebrows, smirking a bit as he realized he’d struck a nerve. “Fuck off, Tucker.”

“Waaaait wait wait…are you into her?”

“Shut up, Tucker.”

“Do you want me to talk to her for you? She had my baby, I totally have an in.”

“Oh my fucking God, shut _up_.”

“Ho-holy shit, you are! Oh man, this is fucking gold.”

Church gave a wordless kind of screech and pushed past him, stomping into the living room. Tucker watched him go, grinning ear to ear. Holy shit, holy shit, Church had a crush on Carmen. Tucker literally could not have planned this more perfectly himself. He was, of course, mature enough to realize that he shouldn’t just go spilling the beans to Carmen. Church had to do that, on his own time, when he felt ready.

Tucker just had to get very, extremely, intimately involved so that Church felt ready as soon as fucking possible. Duh.


	4. Chapter 4

“So my plan is: buy Carmen a drink. Tell her it’s from Church. Buy Church a drink. Tell him it’s from Carmen. Flirt with the DJ and get them to play something sexy. Hmmmm what’s a sexy song…?”

“I have to object to the last part,” Wash snorted, then frowned and shook his head. “Wait, actually, all of it. Why don’t you just…suggest they buy each other a drink? Or better yet, stay out of it. Completely.”

“I literally just fell asleep, what was that?” Tucker asked, and Wash pursed his lips at him for the sarcasm. Tucker grinned cheekily at him, and it was cute enough that Wash just shook his head and let it go, going back to folding laundry. Tucker had abandoned his pile about five minutes in.

“Fold, please,” Wash reminded him with a smirk, smiling wider when Tucker’s grin fell into a pout and he started folding pants like his arms weighed five hundred pounds. “Tucker, I really don’t think you should get involved. You know how Church is. You’ll either piss him off or make him do something stupid. Possibly both. Plus, do you even know if Carmen likes him back?”

Tucker blinked, dropping the shirt he was holding. Wash figured he might as well just give up on getting him to help at this point. “I didn’t really think about that,” Tucker admitted with raised eyebrows. “I just figured it was a no-brainer. Like…it’s Church.”

Wash raised an eyebrow. “That’s adorable,” he said, a little shocked.

“Ew, shut up,” Tucker grimaced. “I’m just saying. He’s really cool, and she’s really cool, and we’ve all known each other forever. It just kinda makes sense.”

Wash nodded quietly, unable to really argue with that. Church and Carmen were quite different people; Carmen was a lot better in a crisis than Church, but she also tended to be a bit of a risk taker, whereas Church preferred to stay at home and stick to his routine. At the same time, they were both bitingly sarcastic, liked the same books, liked watching wrestling and screaming at the TV together. And like Tucker had said, the three of them had been through a lot together, and Church and Carmen were clearly close even without the crush. He didn’t know them as well as Tucker did, but-

“I suppose I can see where you’re coming from,” Wash admitted. “But I still think you should let them figure it out.”

“That’ll take forever,” Tucker scoffed, waving him off. He frowned when Wash started taking clothes from his pile and proceeding to fold and hang them. “Hey, wait, I can help. I’m sorry.”

“How about you do the dishes instead?” Wash suggested, grinning at him. “I hate them.”

“Really? Dishes are ten times better than laundry,” Tucker scoffed.

“Dishes are gross. And wet,” Wash grimaced. “Please? I’ll finish this.”

“Deal, baby,” Tucker grinned, pecking him on the cheek. Wash reached and tapped his ass playfully as he passed by, smiling widely when Tucker laughed his way down the hall.

***

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” Carmen sighed, sitting in the backseat of Tucker’s car and drumming her fingers on the windowsill. “It’s just an interview.”

“Right,” Tucker nodded, glancing at her and grinning in the rear-view. “Plus our place really needs servers, so you’re totally gonna get it. It also helps that Simmons is like…petrified of women.”

Carmen’s eyes swiveled to meet his, and she raised a thick black eyebrow. “He’s afraid of women?”

“Well, okay, that’s an exaggeration. He just stutters and gets weird and red,” Tucker snickered.

“Ew,” Carmen snorted, rolling her eyes.

“He’s married, it’s not like that,” Wash assured her from the passenger seat. “He’s just…”

“Weird,” Tucker supplied.

“Right. Weird.”

“Oh wait, is this the guy that married his husband in like, Vegas or something last summer?”

Tucker snorted and nodded. “Yep, that’s them. It literally took Donut spotting the wedding rings for us to even find out.”

Carmen snickered, shrugging with her arms crossed over her chest. “Well. You guys are dicks. No wonder they didn’t want you to know.”

Tucker cocked his head thoughtfully. “You know what? That’s fair.”

They pulled into the parking lot and Tucker nabbed them a spot near the employee entrance. He parked a little crooked at first, and was going to put the car in park when he caught Wash’s expectant look. “Alright, alright, damn,” he huffed, smirking with fond exasperation as he backed out and straightened his vehicle. “There. Happy?”

“Yes, thank you,” Wash snickered, kissing his temple before climbing out of the car.

“You two are gonna give me diabetes,” Carmen drawled.

Tucker grinned and hugged her briefly. “You’re gonna kill it. See you after our shift is over, ‘kay?”

“Later,” Carmen agreed, nodding with a smile that was just a little too wide. Tucker knew she got anxious about little stuff, especially stuff that required her to perform well, like interviews. Even if the interview was for something like serving at a shitty restaurant, she still wanted to do a good job. He gave her a reassuring thumbs up before following Wash into the back entrance.

“She gonna be okay?” Wash asked as he punched his time card.

“Ah, she’s fine,” Tucker assured him, waving his hand. “She just cares a lot about like, everything.”

“Sounds familiar,” Wash smirked, nudging him affectionately. Tucker almost rolled his eyes, then stopped halfway there and snorted instead. Still working on that; it was like his eyes had a life of their own!

They dropped their shit off in the break room and Tucker tied his apron around his waist, stealing every single pen off of every surface until he had six in one of his pouches. Wash laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“You’re such a shit.”

“Half of these are mine anyway, these assholes are thieves,” Tucker grinned, kissing his fingers and pressing them to Wash’s lips since they weren’t allowed to smooch at work. “Have a good shift, sweet cheeks.”

“You too,” Wash replied, turning a little pink at the silly nickname.

They parted ways as they entered the restaurant itself, Wash heading toward the bar and Tucker making his way toward one of the stations where Donut was folding silverware. “Sup, D.”

“Heyyy, Tucker!” Donut greeted cheerfully. “How’s life?”

“Really good,” Tucker told him with a smile, pulling a stack of napkins toward him and putting himself to work until he got some tables. “You?”

“Not bad,” Donut nodded. “It’s slow tonight. And I see Carmen is here for her interview.”

Tucker looked up and saw Carmen sitting at a booth in the corner of the restaurant, across from a decidedly pink Simmons. She didn’t look too weirded out, though, so it must be going alright. “Oh, yeah. She’s gonna kill it.”

“Of course,” Donut nodded. “It’ll be so nice to have someone else on Saturdays. I’ve been getting absolutely nailed every weekend!”

Tucker snorted in amusement at the innuendo. “Nice.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“Hello, Tucker!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tucker gasped, nearly jumping out of his skin as a huge arm came down on his shoulders and almost knocked him onto the fucking floor. “Caboose, you can’t sneak up on people like that, man!”

“Oh, no! I scared you, I’m sorry,” Caboose gasped, though the corners of his mouth were twitching a bit. Tucker had a sneaking suspicion he’d done it on purpose.

Ever since he’d started working at the restaurant a few months prior, Caboose and Tucker had had a playful-but-sometimes-too-real rivalry going. Mostly it was a contest to see who could get the most tips, as they were both charming in their own way and their tables always loved them. Caboose had a tendency to make it personal, though, making fun of Tucker for stupid shit that normally wouldn’t bother him. But it was just something about when Caboose said it…

Fucking Caboose.

“Uh huh, sure,” Tucker snorted, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t you have tables to get to?”

“My tables are already gotten to!” Caboose assured him with a wide grin. “Very fast. Because I am fast.”

“I get it,” Tucker drawled. “Pretty sure I was faster than you the other night.”

“Well, that is because I am not dating a bartender. And so my drinks do not come as quickly.”

Tucker’s jaw dropped, though he couldn’t help laughing; Caboose had some balls, he could give him that. “Fuck you, dude!”

Caboose just grinned right back, clearly very pleased with himself. “Oh, that is for you!” he said, pointing to the group that had just walked in and been seated. “You should probably go. We do not want them to think you are slow. Sargent would not be happy.”

“Sarge only comes in like, once a month to yell a lot and then leave,” Tucker snorted. He grabbed a handful of straws and stuck them in his empty pouch anyway, heading toward the new table. He caught Carmen’s eye as he crossed the restaurant and gave her a grin and a thumbs up. She smirked at him but otherwise didn’t react, listening to whatever Simmons was telling her.

Tucker took a break around eight, after the dinner rush had subsided a bit, and spent it sitting up at the bar while Wash cleaned up and took a moment to breathe. Carmen had stuck around to wait until Church was out of work and could pick her up; she’d sold her car to afford to move and was looking at at least a few months without one. She sat beside Tucker, kicking her feet a bit as they dangled off the bar stool.

“So when do you start?” Tucker asked eagerly. She had, of course, gotten the offer on the spot.

“Simmons has me doing afternoons until I learn the ropes,” Carmen told him, laughing at his excited face. “Then I’ll be on evenings mostly. Church said he’d let me borrow the car until I’m done training, apparently one of his coworkers lives nearby.”

“Ohhh, that was nice of him,” Tucker grinned, leaning forward a little. He ignored Wash as he shook his head. “Church is pretty cool, huh?”

“…yeah,” Carmen snorted, giving him a weird look. “He’s alright. Kinda hard to think of a guy as cool when you personally witnessed his acne phase.”

“…that’s very true.”

“Don’t even. You had a crush on him, then.”

“Shut up, dude,” Tucker whined, scowling at Wash when he snickered. “You, too.”

“It’s never going to not be funny,” Wash told him with a grin.

“I hate you people,” Tucker muttered, then turned back to Carmen. “Anyway. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

Carmen blinked once, hard. “It is?”

“Yeah! And how cool you think Church is.”

“…right.” Carmen looked down at her phone as it buzzed, smiling widely when she saw Church’s name. Tucker whacked Wash right in the chest in excitement, not even noticing that he’d accidentally knocked the fucking wind out of him. “I gotta go, that’s Church,” Carmen said, clearly not noticing Tucker’s flailing and sounding extremely cheerful. Suspiciously cheerful.

“Alright. See you later, C,” Tucker grinned.

“Bye, weirdo,” she snorted, rolling her eyes at him before hiking her purse higher up onto her shoulder and heading for the exit.

“Oh man, she’s so into him!” Tucker said gleefully, turning toward Wash and blinking when he saw him rubbing his chest with a dry look. “Oh shit, did I do that?”

“Yes,” Wash scoffed. “I think you broke a rib.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Tucker snickered. He did kiss his own fingers (regretting it when they still smelled of bleach) and press them quickly to Wash’s cheek. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Wash laughed quietly. “I don’t know why you have to assault me every time you get excited.”

“I’m flail-y, it’s not my fault!” Tucker insisted.

“Wow, Tucker, you have taken a very long break! Do I also get a long break if my boyfriend is a bartender?”

“Caboose I swear to _fucking God_!” Tucker hissed, scowling over his shoulder as Caboose trotted by looking innocent as hell. “I fucking hate that guy.”

“You guys get along great sometimes,” Wash smirked. “He just teases you because you let him get a rise out of you.”

“He does it because he’s a douche,” Tucker huffed. “He’s just also a douche that has a cool apartment and a fuck-ton of gaming systems.”

“Also you like him.”

“Do not, he’s terrible.”

“Uh huh,” Wash smirked. “Go on, before Simmons catches you this time.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tucker sighed, hopping down off the stool. “See you at ten.”

“See you then. Love you.”

“Love you too, you gross sap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short break guys; finals week made me it's bitch T_T


	5. Chapter 5

“J, get up, time for school!” Tucker called, rapping on Junior’s bedroom door. “Let’s go dude, you’re running late!”

He didn’t wait for a response, hurrying into the kitchen to suck down some coffee. He sighed in relief when he found the coffee pot already full and steaming, then nearly shit himself when hands settled on his waist from behind. “Jesus pissing Christ, Washington!”

“That’s a new one,” Wash smirked, kissing his cheek briefly. His lips were cool and soft against Tucker’s skin. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Tucker muttered, glaring at him and nudging his ass with his hip as he passed. “Thanks for making coffee.”

“Mhm. Junior not up yet?” Wash asked, eyes flitting toward the clock on the far wall.

Junior shuffled in as if on cue, rubbing his eyes. Tucker frowned at him, taking in his dark under-eyes, slumped shoulders, and dragging feet. “Yo, you alright, kid?”

“I don’t feel good,” Junior whined, pouting up at his father.

Tucker crouched in front of him, brushing aside his curls and pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. “Oh, man. Yeah, you’re hot.”

“I’ll get the thermometer,” Wash said tensely, instantly anxious at the prospect of Junior being sick. He hurried out, making a beeline for the bathroom, and Tucker snorted fondly after him.

“You feel like you wanna throw up or anything?” he asked, turning back to his son.

“A little,” Junior sighed. “Not like, right now, but I don’t feel good.”

“Okay. Sit down, kid,” Tucker urged gently, getting to his feet and nudging Junior into a chair. Wash returned with the thermometer and Tucker took it, thanking him quietly. Wash hovered, in true Wash fashion, his arms crossed nervously as Tucker stuck the plastic stick under Junior’s tongue. “’Kay, leave that in there until it beeps.”

Junior nodded, closing his mouth around it and slumping in his chair with a sigh. Tucker pet his hair briefly before going to pour himself a coffee. When the timer went off on the thermometer he pulled it out of Junior’s mouth and squinted at the numbers, then grimaced. “Yeah dude, you got a mega fever. You should probably stay home.”

Junior nodded, then suddenly went gray in the face. Tucker practically launched himself out of the way, giving the kid a straight shot as he bolted toward the bathroom. Both Wash and Tucker winced through the sounds of noisy heaving.

“Fuck,” Tucker sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up at Wash, his brow pulled in tight and wrinkling his forehead. “Wash. I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“Whatever you need,” Wash said instantly.

Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to work a double today. I can’t call off, no one’s available to cover. I need you to take care of J. If you can.”

Wash stared at him for a beat, looking like he may have short-circuited. Then he shook himself and his features set determinedly. “Of course. Just…” He faltered, eyes going a bit wide again. “I’ve never really taken care of a sick kid before.”

“Just give him the meds in the green bottle that are in the cabinet,” Tucker told him, draining the rest of his coffee when he noticed the time. He continued speaking as he rushed to put on his shoes and coat, shoving his keys into his pocket. “Make sure he rests, don’t let him try to get up and play and shit. Oh, and he should drink a lot of water. And keep his fever down with like, cool washcloths.” Tucker had started to speak faster, the more directions he gave, and his eyes got steadily wider. “Fuck. Maybe I should-”

Wash’s protective instincts flared up at the growing panic on Tucker’s face, and he laid his hands firmly on Tucker’s shoulders. “I can handle it,” he assured him steadily. “I can do it. Go to work.”

Tucker stared into his eyes for a moment, then relaxed. “Yeah. Okay,” he murmured, standing on his toes pecking Wash’s lips delicately. “Thank you. Just gonna go make sure he’s okay.” Tucker hurried down the hall, his coat on already, and found his son slumped over the toilet, head pillowed on his hands. “You alive?” Tucker asked playfully, kneeling in front of him and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Uggghhh,” Junior responded, eyes closed and brow knitted miserably.

“Go lay down, man. I’ll call school for you,” Tucker murmured. “Wash is gonna stay home with you while I go to work.”

“Okay.”

Junior dragged himself up, his head coming up last like it weighed five hundred pounds. Tucker helped him to his feet, instructing him to wash out his mouth and brush his teeth, and then guided him out to the living room. He was running super late, he realized, glancing at the clock briefly. Despite that, he set Junior up with a fluffy blanket, the TV remote, his Xbox controller, a puke bowl, and a big glass of water.

“I’ll be back super late tonight,” Tucker reminded him, flicking a glance toward Wash as well when he entered the room. “Probably 2:30. So I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Bye, dad,” Junior called weakly, only pulling a slight face when Tucker kissed his forehead.

“Have a good day,” Wash murmured as Tucker kissed his cheek goodbye. “Try not to worry.”

Tucker snorted, giving him a look that screamed _yeah fucking right_. Wash smiled fondly back and nudged him toward the door. Tucker glanced over his shoulder, frowning a bit, and then ducked out of the apartment, his keys jingling softer and softer as he hurried down the stairs.

***

Wash was an anxious mess the entire morning, making Junior breakfast and panicking when he threw it all right back up. He resisted the urge to text Tucker, despite the fact that he was terrified that Junior couldn’t keep anything down, should he make him drink more water? What if he threw the water up, too? What if he got dehydrated? When should Wash take him to the emergency room? Fuck fuck fuck-

Wash took a deep breath through his nose, standing in the middle of the kitchen. He lifted his hands and pressed his thumbs between his eyes, rubbing slow circles. He could do this. It was just a stomach bug. Kids got sick all the time. He just wished Junior’s fever would start going down, so he could feel like he was actually fucking helping.

“Wash?”

He looked up, dropping his hands, and then glanced over his shoulder toward the door. “Yeah?”

“Do you wanna play Mario Kart?”

Wash’s heart twisted a bit, unable to help the wide smile. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. You need more water?”

“Yeah.”

After filling up another glass and sticking a curly straw in it, Wash shuffled out to the living room again. Junior was sitting up a bit, a change from how he’d been sprawled on his back all morning. The blanket Tucker had given him was pooled around his waist, and he was holding a controller in his lap. Another sat on the cushion beside him, waiting for Wash. He grinned when Wash handed him his cup, sipping out of the curly straw happily.

“You better not blue shell me, this time,” Wash warned, smirking as he settled into the empty space.

“Or what?” Junior snickered, scooting over until he’d closed the distance between them. He settled with his arm snugly against Wash’s, resting the side of his head against his bicep.

Wash paused, looking down at him for a moment, before getting a hold of himself. “I’ll kick your butt, that’s what,” he teased, grinning wider than he usually might. Junior snickered, starting up their game because Wash had next to no fucking clue what he was doing.

After Junior had kicked Wash’s ass into submission via three blue-shell-based victories, Wash sat up, stretching briefly before getting to his feet. “Alright, let’s take your temperature and do more medicine. Then we can see you if you can keep some crackers and cheese down or something.”

Junior pulled a face at the mention of medicine. Wash couldn’t blame him; it was that nasty liquid stuff that gave you a full body shudder when you drank it. The kid didn’t continue to complain though, settling into the corner of the couch and expertly changing the TV settings back so he could find some cartoons. Wash disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later with a tiny plastic cup of medicine, the thermometer, and a plate of food, setting the latter two on the table next to Junior.

“Alright, just knock it back and you can have water right after to get the taste out,” Wash advised, sinking to his knees in front of Junior and holding out the tiny cup. Junior gave him a pitiful look; Wash could never get over how damn much he looked like Tucker.

Junior sighed and squeezed his eyes shut as he knocked back the medicine, whining and a bit escaping the corner of his mouth. He swallowed it, though, and Wash handed him the water quickly so he could chug. He smiled fondly, rubbing the bit of escaped medicine away with the cuff of his sleep. “Good job.”

“Bleh,” Junior grumbled, scowling half-heartedly at him. Wash just grinned and sat beside him.

“I know. I used to hate that stuff,” Wash commiserated, leaning over him to retrieve the thermometer. He pushed Junior’s hair away from his forehead, feeling his skin with a concentrated frown. “Hm. You don’t feel as hot, actually,” he noted, blinking a couple of times in pleasant surprise. “Let’s take your temperature again.”

Junior opened his mouth obediently, and Wash reminded him to lift up his tongue before tucking the thermometer underneath it. He closed his teeth around it reflexively, and snickered when Wash tickled his neck until he stopped.

“Piranha,” Wash grinned, nudging him as he sat beside him again. He watched whatever Junior had put on TV, some cartoon with a vaguely unsettling art style, until the timer went off again. He peeked at the numbers and let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Temperature’s going down, yay.”

“Yayyyy,” Junior sighed, flopping back against the couch. “Still feel like a flaming butt.”

“A flaming _what_?” Wash laughed, ruffling his curls. “You’re so weird.”

“Not as weird as you!” Junior grinned, poking him with his foot. Tucker liked to do that, too. _Being obnoxious must be genetic_ , Wash smirked to himself.

“That’s fair,” Wash snickered. “Let me go get you another cold washcloth and we can watch something less…disturbing.”

“What’s ‘disturbing’?” Junior asked, frowning at his show.

“Nothing. We can watch whatever you want on Netflix until bedtime.”

“Sweet!”

Wash refreshed the cloth, draping it over the back of Junior’s neck, and they picked out something to watch. To be fair, it really wasn’t any less weird than the cartoon had been, but at least Wash could sit through it. If only because of a desire to understand what the fuck was happening. Junior slumped lower and lower in his seat as time went on, leaning heavily on Wash’s arm. Eventually Wash lifted it, and felt his heart skip a beat as Junior snuggled up to his side. He swallowed, wrapping his arm around the kid again and squeezing gently, trying not to make a big deal out of it even as he screamed internally.

The screaming only lasted for a while, soon to be replaced by warmth and a content sleepiness. He heard Junior’s breath deepen and even out, and he glanced down, smiling softly when he found him passed the fuck out, cheek smushed on Wash’s chest. His heart tugged again, and happiness fluttered in his stomach. An overwhelming wave of affection washed over him, nearly choking him, and he took a slightly shaky breath through his nose.

He’d never given much thought to having kids. Mostly because his past relationships had been so wild, and he’d subsequently been single for so long. He just had never been able to see himself as being a stable enough person that someone would want to have a child with him, let alone that he would be able to raise the kid responsibly. The fact that he really loved kids made that pill even harder to swallow, but he’d come to terms with it. He’d be lucky to have a steady significant other. He’d never have a family.

But then, he met Lavernius Tucker.

Lavernius Tucker, and the son he’d named after himself because he was just so fucking proud of him. Who got his best friend pregnant by accident, and didn’t hesitate to just dive headfirst into making a family with her. Who raised his child with a boisterous false confidence, faked it until he made it, loved Junior with his entire heart and soul and wasn’t ashamed to say so. Tucker, who needed someone to face the world with. Wash wanted to face it with him.

Wash stilled, looking down at Junior again and watching his gentle face as he slept. Wash wanted to face the world with them both. He wanted to care for them both, to love them both. He already did love them both.

Wash wanted to be their family. Forever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Little bit of NSFW

Wash had accidentally dozed off, on his back in bed with the television still on low, when Tucker dragged himself in from work. Wash sniffed awake when the door creaked, rubbing his eyes and smiling blearily. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tucker whispered, leaning over to peck him softly before instantly stripping like his work smock had personally offended him. “How was it today?”

“Not bad. He got a lot better by dinner time. It’s probably a 24 hour thing,” Wash murmured, watching each layer come off of Tucker’s body with a drowsy appreciation. Tucker had left the light off, and the blue illumination of the moon reflected delicately off of his shoulders and cheek bones.

“Awesome. Hopefully it’s mostly gone by morning.” Tucker crawled into bed once he was ass naked, snuggling up and humming happily as Wash wrapped his arms around him. “Thanks for taking care of him. Seriously.”

“No problem,” Wash assured him quietly, tucking his nose into his hair. “You smell like french fries.”

Tucker snickered into the silent dark, pressing closer. “Deal with it. I’m not getting back up to shower.”

Wash grinned lazily, lifting an arm so Tucker could shift around to get comfortable, and then draping it over his middle again. “Night.”

“Night, babe.”

Wash stirred the following morning with hot, gentle lips caressing his ear and a warm chest pressed to his back. He let out a sleepy sigh, opening his eyes to slits and turning to look at Tucker with an amusedly raised eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Sup,” Tucker grinned, kissing his lips instead. “I wanted you to be awake.”

“Well, here I am,” Wash snorted, rolling to face him. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Tucker kissed him again, shuffling closer and draping his leg over Wash’s hip.

Wash snickered, burying his face into Tucker’s neck and kissing the soft skin. “You’re naked, Tucker. This is the opposite of subtle.”

“Who said anything about subtle?” Tucker grinned, pressing his extremely bare erection against Wash’s growing one. “Living together means I get to have no shame.”

“You had shame before?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I can just go,” Tucker drawled, rolling away from him and moving to sit up. Wash grinned and grabbed him around the waist, dragging him on top of him.

“No way, get back here,” he laughed, pulling him down for a kiss.

“You sure you want to fuck a dude that smells like french fries and misery?” Tucker teased, straddling Wash’s hips and rolling his own lazily. Wash just snorted, too distracted to come up with a proper response.

They fucked slow and sleepy, the sound of their heavy breath mingling with the whirring of the fan overhead. The morning was otherwise silent, and by the time they came the sun was beaming on Tucker’s back, warming his skin. Wash watched the light haloed behind Tucker’s head as he wiped them both down, a gentle smile on his face. He reached to brush a couple of Tucker’s locks over his shoulder, his heart incredibly full. He wanted to wake up to Tucker’s face, Tucker’s smile, Tucker’s warm body, every morning for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

***

“I’m gonna ask Tucker to marry me.”

Carmen completely missed the nail she was about to hit, the hammer striking the wall instead and leaving a small dent. “Fuck,” she gasped, then whirled on Wash. He took a step back at the sight of her wide-eyed and wielding a hammer, wondering if he should use the picture frame in his hands as a shield.

“Holy shit!” she cried, but she didn’t look like she was about to explode or lecture him. “Are you serious?!”

“Yeah,” Wash laughed, grinning when she did. “You, uh, dented the wall.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit,” Carmen ranted, either ignoring him or not hearing him at all. “That’s so crazy! Do you have a ring yet? What does it look like? Does anyone else know? Did you talk to his mom?”

“No one else knows. Please don’t tell Church,” Wash told her seriously.

“Aw, what?! Why?”

“Because he is the worst liar on Earth and I want it to be a surprise.”

“…okay, yeah,” Carmen snickered, her eyes softening perceptibly. Tucker was right; she and Church were both incredibly fucking obvious. “He can’t keep a secret for shit.”

“Exactly. So just us, okay?” Wash grinned, nudging her playfully.

“Yeah, totally. Oh, man, this is gonna be kickass!”

“I hope so,” Wash sighed. “I don’t have a ring yet, but I’ve been looking at them for a while. I just hope he doesn’t think it’s too soon…we’ve only been dating like, a year and a half.”

“Boy, some people date for three months and get married,” Carmen snorted, turning back toward the wall and readjusting the position of the nail. She hung the frame Wash was holding, effectively using it to cover up the dent she’d made. That was, as she often liked to say, a problem for Later Carmen. “Plus, you guys were friends for what, three years before that? Fuck it.”

Wash smiled, then blinked as she leapt off of the top of the three-step ladder and onto the floor. “Jesus, be careful.”

She giggled at him, ruffling his hair as she passed by. “Damn, you really are a mother hen.”

“…am not,” Wash pouted, turning to follow her. “Anything else to hang?”

“Nope. That’s the last of it. Thanks again,” she grinned, elbowing him affectionately. “I would’ve made Church help me, but he built like, 90% of my furniture, so.”

Wash snorted and nodded, stretching his arms over his head and popping his spine. “I should probably head back to get Junior from the bus. We’ll bring him by before we head to dinner, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Carmen gave him a hug and a swift peck on the cheek, thanking him again for his help, and then Wash was headed back to his own apartment. He’d been a homebody prior to living with Tucker and Junior, enjoying going out with friends but often needing three days of alone time to recharge. With Tucker and Junior, his apartment had turned into more of a nest, a place he liked to escape to because of the people who were there, rather than the people who weren’t.

He parked just in time to meet Junior on the sidewalk as he was coming off of the bus, smiling and waving as he approached. Junior grinned and waved back, and Wash only got a little choked up when he hugged him tightly hello. God, he was done for. “Hey, Junior. How was school?”

“It was okay. I have a math test that I have to do flashcards for.”

Wash nodded, taking his backpack for him as he followed him into the apartment building. “Okay. You wanna do them with your mom tonight?”

“I don’t wanna do them ever,” Junior snorted, ascending the stairs and stretching his legs as far as they would go as he skipped some. It must have been much harder going, but he seemed to be having a good time. “It’s multiplication tables. Bleh.”

“Ew,” Wash agreed, the pair of them stopping outside the door. He reached over Junior’s head to open the lock, and then followed him inside. “Well, you still have to do them. Unfortunately.”

“I know,” Junior sighed, giving him the same look he gave Tucker when he lectured. “I can do them with momma.”

“Okay,” Wash snickered, hanging up Junior’s backpack and toeing off his shoes. “Did you eat lunch today?” Junior had been known to skip it, his pills still often ruining his appetite. They hadn’t been able to find him one that got rid of that symptom completely, but they were working on it.

“I had the nutrigrain bar, but that’s it,” Junior told him, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV.

“I’ll make you a snack, then.”

“Okay,” Junior nodded, then blinked a few seconds later and called, “Thank you!” as he remembered his manners. Wash snickered fondly and ducked into the kitchen to make him a plate, glancing at the clock. Tucker would be home from work in a few minutes, and then the two of them had the evening off for once. They were taking full advantage, with a date night planned while Carmen took Junior for weekend.

With Carmen in town, Junior got to see a lot more of her than he ever had before. When Wash had first asked about the previous arrangement, with Carmen living out of town and seeing Junior biweekly, Tucker had quite sharply told him he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d come around eventually, though, explaining that Carmen had had horrible postpartum depression that had resulted in the mutual decision for Tucker to take full custody of Junior when he was an infant. Carmen had a history of quite crippling depression, and while she remained a supportive and active figure in Junior’s life, Tucker was simply able to offer him more stability. They’d apparently gotten shit from both Tucker and Carmen’s parents about the decision, but they’d stuck to it, and Wash had to admit that it seemed like it had been the right one.

Following Junior’s birth Carmen had apparently dropped out of school, had a pill problem for a bit, then an alcohol problem, then went missing for a couple of weeks before ending up in the hospital after an overdose. Purposeful or not, Tucker wasn’t able to tell him, but she had apparently gotten good therapy and made a recovery, any hint of her old self nearly invisible to one that didn’t know her well. Tucker still worried, he told Wash so often, but the fact that Carmen had felt brave enough to move out of her parents’ house and back to Blood Gulch was a huge step. Wash wasn’t sure what it was about the town that she’d been trying to avoid, but he was happy to have her around, either way.

Tucker entered the apartment, and Wash lifted his eyes to the ceiling fondly as he heard the door hit the wall and Tucker swear softly. He didn’t call him out, although he wanted to, and smiled over his shoulder when Tucker greeted Junior on his way into the kitchen. Looking for him, like he always did when he first got home. “Hi,” Wash greeted him as he entered the kitchen, bending down the couple inches of difference so Tucker would kiss his cheek. “Work okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Nice to only have a half shift,” Tucker grinned. “You ready for tonight? I was thinking sushi. And then for dessert, we get kinky as fuck because we can scream and not scar anyone for life.”

Wash snickered, sticking Junior’s favorite curly straw into his juice. “Yes to both. Although we might still scar the neighbors.”

“Fuck the neighbors. They’re just jealous,” Tucker declared, giggling when Wash nudging him with his hip. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay. I’d come with you, but there’s still a tiny person here. Maybe tonight,” Wash teased, walking toward the living room with Junior’s snack in his hands.

“Definitely tonight. And tomorrow morning. And on the kitchen table, and the living room floor, on the balcony…”

“I’ve told you before, I’m not doing it on the balcony.”

“You’ll come around.”

Once Junior had his snack, Wash helped him pack his weekend bag while Tucker got ready to go out. He always took ten years to pick out something to wear, being terribly indecisive, so Wash let him take all the time he needed. Wash stuck enough clothes for the weekend, and some extra for the accidents that would likely occur, into Junior’s overnight bag. Junior helped out by making a pile on the bed of his videogames, homework, and other toys he wanted to bring. Wash snickered and had to negotiate a bit on the toys, as not all of them would fit in the bag. By the time Tucker came out of the bedroom smelling clean and incredibly appealing, Junior was all set to go.

“Oh my god, thank you,” Tucker sighed, kissing Wash on the cheek gratefully. “I was just about to come help him get ready.”

“I gotchu,” Wash grinned, snickering when Tucker groaned and swatted his arm.

“You’re so fucking lame, I love it. Let’s go. J, come on!” he called, heading toward the door to get his keys. Wash smiled goofily, following after him like a lovesick puppy.

They drove Junior to Church and Carmen’s place, walking him in so they could say a quick hello.

“Hi mom!” Junior beamed when Carmen answered the door.

“Hey, kid,” she laughed, bending to smooch his cheek. “Hey, guys. Thanks for dropping him off. I’ll come get him next time.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Tucker scoffed, nudging her playfully. “We were on our way out anyway.”

Junior and Tucker hugged tightly, like they were never going to see each other again. Wash smiled fondly, shaking his head at how dramatic they were, then blinked when Junior threw his arms around his waist and squeezed him, too.

“Bye, Wash. Love you.”

It was a simple thing, quick parting words that he said to Tucker every time they dropped him off anywhere. That didn’t stop the lump from settling in Wash’s throat, or his eyes from spontaneously beginning to sting. “I…love you, too,” he replied, trying to sound casual and hoping he’d succeeded. If Junior noticed anything odd, he didn’t say anything, skipping inside the door. Carmen smirked in amusement, waving and saying goodbye to them both before closing the door and locking it behind her.

Tucker grinned up at Wash, thrilled at the tiny bit of affection, and softened when he saw Wash rubbing his eye gruffly. “Awww, babe,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around him. “That was nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Wash said hoarsely, clearing his throat. “Um. We should go. Reservation.”

Tucker snickered quietly, standing on his toes to kiss his cheek. “Okay, let’s go, ya big softie,” he murmured, keeping his arm around Wash’s waist as they shuffled back down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

Wash wasn’t sure how he never realized it before, but Tucker didn’t wear jewelry. Therefore, the process of trying to find an engagement and wedding ring that he wouldn’t hate wearing was made about ten times more stressful; would he want something simple, or something with sparkle? Tucker was a lot of things, but flashy wasn’t really one of them. Then again, he did have those ridiculous jeans with ten thousand holes and elaborate crosses on the ass…those were pretty extra. But he only really wore those when they were going out, otherwise it was dirty basketball shorts and maybe a shirt, if he felt like it…

“Fuck,” Wash sighed, staring intently at the rings on display, underneath a layer of glass. He’d honestly considered just ordering them online, but not only did that feel like quite possibly the most half-assed thing he could ever do, he also had a waking nightmare about Junior opening the package (as he tended to do) and ruining the surprise. So, Wash had dragged his ass downtown to look at rings in person, like a responsible adult. He cursed himself, not for the first or last time in his life, for his penchant for dramatics. If Tucker were with him, the ordeal would have been much simpler, but Wash was dead set on surprising him. Maybe with fireworks going off in the background. Or a waterfall.

After an awkward conversation with one of the attendants behind the counter, who seemed to be a bit worried for him after watching him nearly pop a blood vessel staring at jewelry, he decided on something simple. A matching pair of bands, simple and golden, and slightly more elaborate ones for the wedding bands. He didn’t take those with him, though, getting the brilliant idea to get them engraved. Tucker loved sappy stuff, it was the perfect plan. He grinned to himself as he checked out, feeling very accomplished.

***

The zoo in the city had an annual weekend event around the holidays called Zoo Lights, where they lit up all of the walkways and some of the exhibits with Christmas lights. Wash had never gone, having never really had a reason. Usually it was either families or couples, as the atmosphere could be quite romantic; dark, soft lights everywhere, cold enough to necessitate walking closely to share warmth. And although he’d been told otherwise by a reliable source, Wash’s idea of romance was often very textbook, like a formula - lights, music, lots of touching. Bam, done.

Naturally, this led him to believe that Zoo Lights would be the absolute perfect place to propose to Tucker.

And, also naturally, Tucker loved the suggestion and instantly ran with it, inviting along his child as well as Church and Carmen. Wash just smiled and agreed, because he just couldn’t give up the damn surprise. Besides, those were most of the important people in Tucker’s life. It would be great for them to be there. Even if Carmen and Church were still dancing around each other as if everyone didn’t already know what was going on. Tucker had already bet Wash twenty bucks that they’d already slept together. _Their rooms are right across the hall, dude! It’s totally happened!_

On the evening of Zoo Lights, Junior was standing in the entryway of the apartment, scowling as Tucker tried to shove a hat onto his head. “Dad, come on! My hair is gonna get messed up!”

“I’ll fix it!” Tucker argued, lunging for him again. Junior backed away, giving him a look, and Tucker rolled his eyes. “Fine. Earmuffs, then. Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” Junior muttered, glowering as Tucker clapped the earmuffs over his ears.

“Good. Put on your gloves, too, your fingers are gonna fall off.”

“That doesn’t happen, Dad!”

Tucker ignored him, smirking and winking at Wash as he turned around. Wash smiled and shook his head fondly. “Are you two about ready, or did you want to bicker some more?”

“Hey. I’m a grown up. I don’t bicker with nine year olds. I lay down the law.”

“Sure.”

They got bundled up and locked up the apartment, heading down the stairs and venturing into the cold. It wasn’t too windy, though, a pleasant enough night that would be bearable since they were so bundled up. Tucker pulled Junior to a stop, reaching to pull his zipper up to his chin.

“Dad,” Junior griped, sighing heavily. “I can zip my own jacket. And it doesn’t need to be that high!”

“Oh, stop,” Tucker snorted, readjusting Junior’s ear muffs before finally straightening again.

“You’re hovering,” Wash murmured, smirking fondly.

“Am not!” Tucker whined, pouting when Wash wound an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “He’s gonna get sick again.”

“No he won’t. Come on, let’s go have fun,” Wash grinned, holding him a little closer. The velvet box sat heavy in his coat pocket, and he stuck his hand inside to squeeze it for good luck.

“Yeah, yeah. Like you’re one to talk about hovering, anyway,” Tucker smirked, resting his head on Wash’s shoulder as they made their way down the sidewalk.

They piled into the car, blasting the heat while Tucker texted Church to let him know they were on their way to meet them. Traffic was a disaster the closer they got to the zoo, meaning Wash got snippy having to drive in it and Tucker just let him bitch in amusement. He got even more irritated when it was nearly impossible to find a parking space, and Tucker did that annoying thing where he pointed out spots by gasping dramatically for no reason.

“Tucker, stop doing that.”

“I’m not doing anything, I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re being annoying.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I can just let you deal with it, then.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Junior had just about had it with their shit by the time they actually parked and crossed the lot to meet Carmen and Church near the gates. “Save me,” he said seriously, looking Carmen in the eyes. “They’re arguing about parking.”

Church snickered while Carmen gave Wash and Tucker a playful smirk. “Are you two playing nice?”

“Yeah, Wash is just sassy,” Tucker grinned, shrieking when Wash dug his fingers into his side, just under his ribs where he was mostly ticklish. “Oh my fucking god, do _not_!”

“And now they’re being gross,” Junior drawled. “Hi, Church.”

“Hey, squirt,” Church snickered, the pair of them walking ahead of the others and probably talking shit as soon as they were out of earshot. Carmen watched them go with soft eyes, the corner of her mouth quirked slightly.

“Caaaan you feeeeel the looooove toniiiiight?” Tucker sang, snickering when Carmen elbowed him. “Owww, what? Just sayin’.”

“Fuck off,” she huffed, though she sucked in her lips and bit them, like she was trying to squash a smile.

They caught up with Church and Junior, who were already in line for hot chocolate. Carmen walked up to them, bumping Church playfully with her hip. “Get one for me, too?”

“Uh. Sure. I mean. Yeah. Definitely. Of course,” Church stammered, turning pink in the face. “Totally.”

“Fuckin’ weak, dude,” Tucker muttered, giggling when Wash put a gloved hand over his mouth. “Hey, I’m just saying,” he grinned, wriggling out of Wash’s hold.

“Stop helping,” Wash smirked, wrapping his arm back around his waist. He smiled wider when Tucker pressed against his side, and dipped to kiss the top of his head gently. “Love you.”

“Sap,” Tucker grinned, looking up at him and pecking his lips before they could get too far away. “Love you more. This was a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Wash nodded, unable to help his smile from nearly splitting his face. “I think so, too.”

Once the hot chocolate was purchased and distributed, they began walking down the path, admiring the lights. Junior held onto Carmen’s hand, gasping and pointing to each new exhibit like it was the most exciting thing in the world. *** It was pretty cool, Wash had to admit, the lights arranged on fixtures in the shape of animals. Some of them were even animatronic, moving their heads or legs.

They approached the center of the zoo, where a huge Christmas tree had been set up, towering over the people below and glistening with baubles and lights. Junior’s eyes went round as saucers. “Holy shit!”

“Junior,” Carmen snickered, trying to look apologetic as a few people glanced their way. “Watch your language in public.”

“Sorry. It’s huge, though!”

“I blame you,” Carmen muttered to Tucker, grinning as Junior rushed ahead with Church to look at the tree up close.

“That’s fair,” Tucker said proudly, still snuggled up to Wash’s side. “Man. Church and J are really attached at the hip, huh?”

“Yeah,” Carmen laughed, glancing toward them and smiling softly as Church hoisted Junior up onto his shoulders. “But, you know, he’s always been good with him. Pretty sure he considers himself parent number three.”

“He’s not wrong,” Tucker laughed, watching her with a fond smile. “He’s pretty great.”

“Yeah.” Carmen paused, her thick brows pulling together slightly for a moment, before a smile spread across her lips. “Um. I’ll be right back.”

She practically floated off toward Church and Junior, and Tucker laughed quietly as he watched her go. Wash was too busy watching him, admiring how the Christmas lights sparkled in his eyes. God, he was a sap, but he couldn’t help it. His heart swelled as he realized the moment was perfect, absolutely perfect, and he squeezed the box inside his pocket again before beginning to speak.

“Tucker.” Tucker glanced up at him, his mouth tilted slightly in an easy smile. “Tucker, this past year has been…so incredible,” Wash laughed, weakly, reaching to gently brush Tucker’s locks over his shoulder. “I never would have imagined that we’d end up here.”

“What, you didn’t think fake dating me would end up with real dating me? Come on, you’ve seen movies,” Tucker teased, though his voice and eyes were soft. “It has been great. Amazing.”

“Yeah. And I just…you make me so-” He paused as Tucker’s eyes went round and his jaw dropped, his gaze over Wash’s shoulder. “What?”

“Holy shit,” Tucker breathed, grinning widely. “Holy shit, it’s happening.”

“What’s happening?” Wash blinked, looking over his shoulder. His eyebrows rose to the top of his head as he noticed what Tucker was so excited about. Carmen has her hands fisted in Church’s jacket, leaning so that she was practically dipping him, and her lips pressed tightly to his. Church’s hands were on her waist, his eyes wide with surprise. Junior was beside them, staring blankly, and then he glanced toward Tucker with an expression that just screamed what the fuck?!

“Fuck yeah, get it!” Tucker crowed, cupping his hands around his mouth to project - as if he needed it - and laughing when Carmen flashed him a middle finger without missing a beat. “Oh my god. Look at them,” he beamed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It worked!”

Wash laughed quietly, letting out an inward sigh of resignation as he released the box inside his pocket. Clearly, today was not the day. “You didn’t do anything, Tucker.”

“Did too. I totally pushed them together,” Tucker declared proudly.

“Whatever makes you feel better.”

Tucker snickered, still ecstatic, and waved Junior over as he looked increasingly uncomfortable.

“Um. Why is mom kissing Church?”

“Because they like each other,” Tucker laughed. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. They’ve been doing it for a long time, though,” Junior grimaced, glancing toward them. “Are they gonna do that all the time like you guys? I’m gonna have to move out.”

Tucker laughed loudly, still routinely surprised by the shit that came out of his son’s mouth, sometimes. “Probably. Sorry, kid.”

Junior let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head. “Adults are so weird. Can I have more hot chocolate?”

“Yeah, fuck it,” Tucker grinned. “Come on, there’s a stand over there.” He looked up at Wash, frowning a bit. “Oh. Were you gonna tell me something babe? Sorry, I interrupted.”

Wash just smiled warmly, pressing his lips to his forehead and lingering for a few extra seconds. “Just that I’m really, really happy.”

Tucker’s face nearly split with his grin, and he rubbed their chilly noses together. “Me too, babe. I’m really, really happy, too.”


End file.
